


New Resident in 142

by FoundlingMother



Series: Alternate MCU [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Investigations, POV Outsider, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Thor: The Dark World, Senior Care Home, Thor: Ragnarok (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 19:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoundlingMother/pseuds/FoundlingMother
Summary: "'Ms. Major,' She extends a hand for Opal to shake. 'My name's Maria Hill. Do you think you could identify Luka Borson's voice from a recording?'"





	New Resident in 142

_“Assisted living, new resident 142’s in their room. Could someone please greet them? He’s on full services.”_

Opal lifts the crackling radio to her face, pauses a beat, then presses the talk button. “Copy. On my way.” Her voice comes out more energetic than she feels.

Two months at Shady Acres Care Home has made her an expert on the layout of the hallways. As she navigates towards the 100’s, she tugs her group list from her pouch, scrawling, ‘ _142: Escorts, PM care,_ ’ in a free corner, leaving space for a name and times.

The door to 142 is closed, so Opal knocks twice before using her key, hearing a muffled, “Enter,” from the other side, followed by a, “Who’s there?” from a distinctly older voice.

The first person Opal lays eyes on is a younger man. He’s impressively tall with a shock of red hair atop his head, not quite long or short. He’s hanging a picture of a waterfall over a chest of drawers, the surface strewn with curious trinkets Opal can’t pinpoint the origin of. Scandinavian, maybe?

The new resident is sat in a chair at the far end of the living room, looking somehow regal despite the plain white button-down shirt and plaid trousers he wears. His silver hair and beard are combed and clean. He scowls at Opal from underneath his facial hair. “I don’t know you.” His expression relaxes into a confused frown. “Do I know you? I can’t—”

“You don’t know her, father,” the younger man explains. “She’s one of the caregivers here.”

Opal offers the older man a wide smile. “That’s right. I’m Opal.” She emphasizes her name. “I’ll be helping you tonight.”

The man’s eyes glaze over. He doesn’t show any indication that he heard her.

“I’m sorry.” Opal looks back at the man’s son, noting his attractive, angular face littered with yellow-brown freckles. “His mind is addled. Allow me to make introductions. My name is Luka, and my father is Owen Borson.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Opal says sunnily.

Luka tugs a woven afghan from a box. Opal sweeps her eyes over the pattern of a pale tree stretching to encompass miniature fantastic cities. The detail and artistry astound her. Luka walks it over to where Owen’s seated. He drapes it behind Owen over the back of the chair. Awareness returns to Owen’s eyes, and he glances at the fabric. His thumb skates along its edge.

Opal clears her throat. “I just came to get a sense of what time Mr. Borson would like to go to dinner and bed. He’s not yet added to the shower schedule, but if there’s a time he’d prefer, I can make a note of it.”

“When does dinner start?”

“4:30. The dining room closes at 7:00.”

Luka nods thoughtfully. “I think 5:30 for his escort to dinner and nighttime care at 8:00. He might refuse to get into bed. Do not trouble yourself if he does. He’s self-sufficient enough to find it when he is ready. He’ll want his showers in the morning. No specific time.”

“Alright, I’ll let the morning shift—”

“Frigga!” Opal startles. Owen fists the afghan, pressing it to his cheek, face crumpled in despair. “He killed her. I—”

“Car accident. A drunk driver,” Luka mutters, catching Opal’s eyes. “She wove this. She used to take care of him, but now…”

Opal’s chest aches in the presence of their palpable grief. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Luka’s white-knuckle grip on the back of Owen's chair loosens. He circles to the front, shoulders stiff. “Father, I am leaving now.”

Owen does not acknowledge Luka.

“Behave,” Luka whispers. Opal’s uncertain she was meant to hear. Hesitantly, he places a kiss against Owen’s brow, then straightens.

“Thank you so much,” Luka says, shrugging into his oversized coat. “Please take good care of him. He—He is precious to a great many people. I will never hear the end of it if he’s mistreated.” He sweeps past Opal, not lingering for a reply, winding his scarf around his neck.

Opal recognizes that behavior. Not staying for dinner on the first day. Not fully unpacking the resident. It’s the behavior of a family member who’s ready to wash their hands of their parent or grandparent. She’ll be surprised if she ever sees Luka Borson again.

* * *

“And was that the last time you saw Luka Borson?” the officer probes.

Opal scratches her neck. “I’m not sure. I mean, I saw a man in Mr. Borson’s room one other time, and it sounded like his son, but I never saw his face. I was just passing by. The door was open a crack, and I saw someone pacing. They were tall, like Luka Borson, but I think they had dark hair. But, like I said, they sounded like him.”

“Do you recall when you saw this?”

“Oh, yes!” Opal nods emphatically. “May 6, 2015. The day of the Battle of Sokovia. It was all over the news. The seniors, you know, they almost always have the news on, so when something big is happening they all know, and they’re all riveted to the screen. I was trying to watch, too, but my manager told me to get back to work.”

“You said it sounded like Luka Borson. Did you hear them speaking to one another?”

“Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“I heard Mr. Borson ask—no, it was more like a command. He commanded his son to help ‘him’. I think he must have meant someone they knew in Sokovia. Luka responded saying the Avengers were there, so he wasn’t needed. Not yet, at least. He said he’d go if things got worse. That’s what I remember.”

“They didn’t say anything else?”

“Not that I heard, but I was only passing by. When I went to help Mr. Borson later, there was no one in his room. No one in the guest log, either. I checked. But that’s not that unusual. Some guests enter through the back and don’t sign in.

“Anyone could enter the facility through the back?”

“Oh, no, they would need a key or for someone to come let them in.”

The officer raps his fingers against the tabletop. “Let’s move on and discuss the day of the explosion. The day Owen Borson disappeared. Were you working—”

The officer’s question is interrupted by a knock at the door. It opens, hinges whining. A woman enters, brown hair cut short and wearing neat, professional clothing. Opal relaxes seeing the officer remain unaffected by her arrival.

“Ms. Major,” She extends a hand for Opal to shake. “My name’s Maria Hill. Do you think you could identify Luka Borson’s voice from a recording?”

Opal nods. “I think I could.” She chuckles. “He had a… um… very distinct voice.”

Maria brings the pad she’s holding up, swiping at the screen. “Please confirm or deny a voice match for Luka Borson.” She taps the pad’s screen to play the audio.

 _“And I would cooperate. Can you? Tell me. There’s not many people who can sneak up on me.”_ Disjointed sentences continue to filter out of the pad’s speakers. The voice is slightly tinny, but Opal recognizes it.

“Yes, that sounds like him.” Opal blinks, stomach churning with unease. “I mean, I can confirm that’s a match for Luka Borson, but how do you—”

“Thank you, Ms. Major,” Maria cuts her off. She turns away.

“Let’s return to my earlier question,” the officer prompts. “Were you working the day of the explosion?”

The door clicks shut behind the mysterious Maria Hill.

**Author's Note:**

> Another speculation piece about Loki (and Odin this time). Going to stick this in my Alternate MCU series, but it's applicable to MCU canon, too. In my opinion, at least.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://foundlingmother.tumblr.com/) | [Dreamwidth](https://foundlingmother.dreamwidth.org/)


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